


Extra Curricular

by Soaring_Ren (Robin_Knight)



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Teacher-Student Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-26
Updated: 2017-06-06
Packaged: 2018-11-05 04:02:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,962
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11005572
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Robin_Knight/pseuds/Soaring_Ren
Summary: Lance regretted his past mistakes.If only he hadn't stayed in the Garrison that night, he could have been one of the legendary Paladins. The last thing he expected was to spend time alone with the Blue Paladin, his current teacher. He expected even less to fall for the older man.





	1. Chapter 1

_‘Yo, did you hear Keith dropped out?’_

_‘Nope! You got it all wrong, man,’ chirped Hunk. ‘He didn’t just flunk out. He was expelled. I heard it straight from Iverson; you know it’s pretty amazing how much you learn, if you just – well – listen to people. Not your style, I know, but consider it a handy tip.’_

_‘Actually, he’s right.’ Pidge adjusted her glasses. ‘It says right here on the school records: “expulsion”. Just give me two seconds . . . just got to get access into . . . right, found it! Huh, this is interesting. You know they’ve fired Shiro, too? The two of them were caught having an affair. Iverson went to Shiro’s apartment, because Shiro had called off sick, but Keith answered the door in just his underwear. No charges, as Keith’s an adult.’_

_‘Huh, rookie move,’ muttered Lance. ‘Still, what kind of loser has to sleep with a professor just to get his grades up? I just can’t believe Shiro has such bad taste. He’s my hero! I know he’ll get a job elsewhere with no problem, but Keith’s_ ruined _his life and –’_

 _‘Dude, you’re filling in a_ lot _of blanks,’ said Hunk._

_‘He slept with a teacher! He got what he deserves, simple as.’_

* * *

Lance sank into the bathtub.

It was a relaxing atmosphere; the candlelight reflected from the marble surfaces, so that the dark room looked almost alive in the evening shadows, and he was hypnotised by the patterns on the silver-coloured tiles upon the floor. They reminded him of the stars. The scent of incense and perfumes drifted through the air and into the steam, while the bubbles on the surface of the bath almost hid the various flower petals and swirling colours beneath.

There was soft music from the bedroom, something classical and perfect. It nearly lured him into a deep sleep, as he reached up to tap at his facemask, where the dry and hard surface – despite the steam and moisture in the air – served as a reminder to peel it back. Lance sighed in contentment, as he adjusted the towel wrapped around his wet hair, and slid a little further down into the cast-iron bathtub with a smile. He enjoyed having _space_ instead of a cramped dormitory room, just as he enjoyed _quiet_ as opposed to constant chatter.

It was almost painful to have that peace disturbed.

He heard a high-pitched keening from the room beside him. It shocked him from his half-sleep and roused him into a full waking state, before – with a rush of notes and sounds – a heavy bass thrummed its way through the wall until the water in the claw-foot tub rippled and shook with the strength of the music. Lance groaned and reached out to the bang on the wall, as water dripped onto the tiles and cool air froze at his wet back, but the music continued and his frustration grew further in the process. He rolled his eyes and climbed out of the tub.

“Hey! Turn that racket down, man!”

Lance looked around for the fluffy, white robe. It was soon found on the floor where he dropped it earlier, next to a couple of personal items, and he snatched it from the tiles in one quick gesture. He pulled the robe on with a string of muttered curses, before he stormed out of the _en suite_ and checked himself in the full-length mirror. The robe stopped short about mid-thigh, while his mask made it clear that he was hardly expecting a confrontation, and he was half-tempted to take the towel off from his head, until the music grew louder.

“Oh, fuck you, dude,” cursed Lance.

He snatched his room key from the table. The door opened and closed with a loud slam, as he looked about the hotel corridor with an embarrassed pout, and – noticing nothing but the various plants in the low-lighted area – and stormed over to the adjacent door. It took a good few bangs with his fist for the music to be turned low; Lance was ready to return to his room with a victorious smirk, only to hear someone call back ‘one moment’, and he found himself frozen in place with a blush that was hidden only by his facemask.

Lance cursed the decision to storm out, as he stood dripping water on the carpet. He adjusted his position and pulled his robe down further, while he listened to an array of sounds from inside the room, and – as he heaved a long sigh – he just hoped he wasn’t interrupting any ‘alone time’ someone may have enjoyed. There soon followed the sound of someone fiddling with the lock, apparently struggling to get it open. Lance growled.

‘Just one tic, lad,’ chirped a voice.

“I don’t have all night, dude,” Lance yelled at the door. “Look, I’m not looking to start a fight, but _some_ of us don’t have much money! I’ve been saving for _two years_ to treat myself like this, and I just wanted some time here before I start my final year at the Garrison. Yeah, you probably heard of that, right? The Garrison? I’m training to be a fighter pilot.”

‘You know we have a word for people like you back home?’ The person paused in their attempt to open the door. ‘It’s called being a wee bit arrogant. I’ll have you know that I’m _very_ knowledgeable about the Garrison, _thank you so very much_ , pal.’

“Okay, well, you’ll know just how hard we work.”

‘You’re not the only one to work hard!’

The door opened. Lance saw the lion-patterned slippers, in a familiar blue-and-white style, before he looked upright to see the same robe that stopped just a little higher up the leg, and then – as he felt his heart sink into his stomach – he saw the other man’s face. There was a red moustache that matched a complementing head full of hair, while violet eyes crinkled with lines at the corner. Coran smiled a dangerous smile, as two perfectly manicured hands came to rest upon his hips and his moustache bristled. He said in a loud voice:

“Ah, capsplack got your tongue, eh?”

Lance blinked away his surprised, as he swallowed back a lump in his throat. He raised a hand to point a finger in Coran’s direction, while he tried to mask his growing sense of embarrassment, and opened and closed his mouth repeatedly in uncertainty. This was both one of the greatest teachers at the Garrison, as well as one of the legendary Paladins, and – without Coran – the universe would have been a very different place indeed. He always regretted having stayed in to study that night, missing out on a once-in-a-lifetime adventure.

“Y-You – You – ah – You’re -?”

“Ah, not so tough now, are you?” Coran chirped. “I’ll have you know that I didn’t mean for the music to be so loud, but – eh – there _seems_ to only be two settings: on and off. Say, you know how to work these Earthling devices, right? Why don’t you come inside and help me to lower the volume? I’d ask the hotel reception, but those phones are such a nightmare.”

“Just how advanced _is_ Altean technology?” Lance crossed his arms and looked away with a pout. “Er, I can probably ring the receptionist from my room, so I can just head back and – ah – let you get on with things . . . Sir. I know you don’t want me bugging you.”

“Nonsense! You may as well call me ‘Coran’. ‘Sir’ and ‘Mr Smythe’ seem so formal when you’re standing there in just a robe and a facemask! Anyway, it’ll be quicker for you to show me how to work the volume than for us to call the staff, and – think of it this way – you _do_ owe me for being so rude. Besides, I never do get to speak to students outside of the Garrison, which is odd, as Shiro and Allura seem so popular . . .”

“I – er – don’t think we’ve seen you outside of class.”

“Ah, I thought as much!” Coran held open the door and waved him inside. “I once found a pub where the older students frequented, along with some of the staff, but I could have _sworn_ I saw a few of them ducking down behind the bar and sneaking off out the front. I – er – stuck mostly to going out on my own after then, or with just Shiro and Allura. Such a shame he was fired, but we still catch up every now and then. Nice fellow.”

Lance winced and walked inside. The room was something of a mess, which implied Coran – unlike Lance – was prone to getting beauty treatments outside of his room. Lance much preferred the in-room massages, various in-room meals, and in-room manicures, but there was a lot to be said about the saunas and swimming pools and hot-stone treatments that were raved about in the brochure. He spotted the opened suitcase with clothes strewn about, as he took a seat at the end of the messy bed and waited for Coran to say something to him.

He knew all too well what it was like to be unwanted; Lance never earned his place on his course, instead gaining it upon Keith’s expulsion, and he wasn’t a Paladin like his other friends, unable to share with them in private jokes and various anecdotes. He kicked at the ground and chewed on his lip, as he prayed that Coran didn’t pin him down as the student who’d avoided him. Coran closed the door behind them and locked the door.

“So you came here alone?” Lance asked.

There was a framed photograph on the nearby desk. It featured Coran next to a man with white hair and a white beard, with Allura standing between them, and Lance wondered what this man meant to Coran that he would carry a photograph with him even on vacation. Coran never talked about his family at the Garrison. It was enough to work at Lance’s curiosity until he looked about the room with a slow gaze, hoping to catch secrets of the other’s life.

He saw what looked like half-a-dozen pairs of almost identical gloves on a nearby chair, while the bedside table was littered with a variety of toiletries, and – right in the centre of the small collection – Lance spotted a moisturiser that he’d been dying to try and unable to afford. He smiled absently to himself, when he also spotted his favourite novel. It sat just beside him on the covers of the bed, which tempted him to reach out and touch upon the front cover, but jerked his hand away when he heard a sorrowful voice:

“Yes, I’ve no one to come with me.”

Lance looked up to see Coran stand before the mirror. The older man touched a bare finger to the marks on his cheek, something that appeared to be a defining feature for his people, and Lance wondered whether they were something hereditary . . . it was possible Coran had a parent or a sibling or even a child with those same marks. Lance looked away out of respect, as he dropped back onto the bed, feet pressed firmly onto the floor and knees bent at the edge of the mattress, and he looked absently up at the chandelier.

“Er, yeah,” said Lance. “I was pretty much the same.”

“Ah, but you have so many friends, my boy.”

“Yeah, but none of them like these kinds of pampering weekends.” Lance shrugged with a smile. “Plus, you guys were gone for nearly over a year, so it’s like you have this tight-knit group that I’m not a part of . . . like I’m this seventh wheel. It’s just . . . I don’t know.”

“You’re not a seventh wheel.” Coran sat down beside him. “I’d like if you joined us more often, honestly! If I’m honest, I’ve always felt a little like the odd one out . . . Allura is like a daughter to me, while I’m – ah – a _teeny_ bit older than the others, especially number five! It’s – well – a wee difficult . . . I suppose it doesn’t help that our people are no longer with us, as we stand out all the more here on Earth. It just makes you feel more . . . alone.”

“You get that, too? I thought it was just me!” Lance sat upright with a sigh. “I always stood odd because of how I look, but it’s _so_ insanely difficult. Like, everyone kept speaking Spanish to me and stuff at school, but I don’t speak a word of Spanish, and then whenever I go visit my family back home, they talk about stuff that’s totally beyond me.”

“Oh, don’t you just hate that? I sometimes forget Allura and I stepped out of time, just as we left behind our home, and the places we used to visit are just so different. A market for space-pirates turned into a shopping mall, which was a strange one to get used to.”

“Yeah, right! Like, you can’t go back to how you were –”

“– but you don’t belong where you are, either.”

The two of them shared a long look. Lance smiled absently, until he realised he was staring at his teacher, and – with a flush beneath his mask – he looked away and cleared his throat, as he ran a smooth hand over the back of his neck. Coran chuckled and rubbed just underneath his nose with a long finger, before he scratched at his temple and looked absently over to the photograph upon his desk. There was a comfortable silence between them.

Lance felt the bed creak, as Coran moved to tidy the room. The robe lifted at the back each time he bent down, and – apparently unaware that he was exposing way more than he should – Coran continued to remain oblivious as he cleaned and organised and tidied much like he would after various classes. Lance dropped back onto the bed again. He was grateful for the facemask, as he could feel his cheeks burning a violent shade of red, and he stared up at the ceiling desperate to avoid looking at . . . well . . . _those_ again. Coran interrupted the silence:

“It’s the first time you’ve not avoided me.”

The atmosphere ran cold. Lance sat upright to see Coran sniffle enough to bristle his moustache, as he stood before the window and gazed out with half-lidded eyes and no sign of his trademark smile. It sent a wave of guilt through Lance; he stood at once and walked over to his teacher with slumped shoulders, before he gnawed at his lip and looked out of the window in turn. The view was spectacular. The hotel had strung fairy lights about the path to the gazebo, where a small band played to the outside diners on the patio.

Coran smiled once more, proving a suspicion that he smiled to mask his pain. It brought a tear to Lance’s eye, as he forced a smile in turn, and – as he blinked back his tear – he looked to Coran and shrugged in a mock casual gesture. Lance noticed that Coran avoided his gaze, as if afraid to look at him. He drew in a deep breath and looked back outside, where the stars shone bright in the sky and reminded him of what he missed. Lance whispered:

“I – er – never meant to avoid you.”

“It sure seemed like it,” chirped Coran. “I thought you hated me.”

“What? No! I mean, I hate _Keith_ , sure, but I don’t hate _you_.” Lance blushed and shrugged. “I guess a part of me was just scared to stand out all the more, because you stand out pretty well and _everyone_ knows who the Paladins are, you guys are like heroes! Plus, I didn’t feel . . . well . . . worthy of being around you lot. You saved the world, but what have I done? I’m barely scraping a passing grade by the skin of my teeth. It’s . . . rough.”

“Listen, I may not know how you feel, but I know what it’s like to not feel good enough. My grandfather built the castle in which Allura and I still reside, while my father was also a great man, and Alfor – that’s Allura’s father – was the greatest king and friend I’ve ever known. I live every day wondering whether I’ll do him proud, whether I’ve done enough . . .”

“What? But you helped save the universe!”

“Yes, but my people _were_ my universe, and they’re gone.” Coran smiled absently. “It’s hard not to worry whether I’m doing a good job or even just doing enough. Shiro used to loathe my cooking, while Keith never did like my training exercises, and I sometimes got the impression that Number Five would rather not be around my slipperies.”

Lance furrowed his brow in confusion. He shook his head of the ‘slippery’ question, but remembered well what it was like to feel your entire culture rested upon your shoulders. It was up to him to keep his heritage alive, even when in the States with the American half of his family, but he always knew – deep down – there was an entire country back home to do their share when he slacked off. He couldn’t imagine losing everything; land, history, artefacts, the ecosystem, the language . . . the _people_. Lance said in a quiet voice:

“I shouldn’t have avoided you, Coran.”

“Well, I can understand why you did, lad,” said Coran. “No harm done!”

“Hey, I can make it up to you?” Lance replied with a bite of his lip. “I never really thought how lonely it must feel to be when your entire planet’s just . . . gone. If it’s not too painful, I’d love to hear all about it? Like what do the flowers smell like? Did you have the same kinds of food like here? What were the fashions like? I’d be happy to sit and listen.”

“Really? You mean it? You’d really want to sit and listen?”

“Sure. It’s your home, right?”

Coran turned with clear tears. Lance was taken aback at first, until he saw the trembling lip and flush to those pale cheeks, and suddenly – with wide and all too innocent eyes – that older face dove at him and two warm arms encircled him. The embrace left Lance a little startled, as he kept his arms raised awkwardly in the air, before he patted at Coran’s back until the sobs softened and Coran pulled back with a wink. It was almost as if he hadn’t cried a single tear, were it not for the trails down his cheeks. Lance tried to break the awkwardness.

“Hey, this is a spa, right?”

“It sure is, lad,” chirped Coran. “Why’d you ask?”

“There’s a lot of treatments I wanted to get,” admitted Lance. “They just kept telling me those were for couples, though, so I’ve missed out on some great stuff. If we’re both here alone, why not make the most of it and be less alone for a few days? We can do some of the couples stuff together and get to know each other in the process.”

“That does sound rather fun.” Coran raised a hand in a gun-gesture. “I’ll tell you what, we can also have a sleepover! I’ll bring some extra pillows and blankets to your room. It’ll be lots of fun! They show movies here, too, so we can order popcorn.”

“Okay, but I get to pick the movie, right? My choice!”

“Only if I get to pick the late-night snacks.”

Lance laughed, as Coran filled his arms with pillows. It was hard to remember his last sleepover, but he knew that it was always so difficult sleeping alone at night. He grew up with many siblings and cousins, rarely a moment to himself, and at the Garrison there was always Hunk to share a room, but here there was nothing but the sound of his thoughts to keep him company at night. He looked to Coran and saw a potential friend.

“Deal,” Lance promised.

 


	2. Chapter 2

“You’re kidding, right?”

Hunk leaned down upon the desk. The rest of the class slowly piled inside, so that there was a buzz of chitchat and shuffled footsteps about them, and – as Lance slid into his usual spot – he chanced a glance about the classroom. There was nothing unusual, yet somehow he felt like he was looking at the Garrison for the first time. He smiled absently to himself, as he looked about the sea of uniformed cadets and various posters of the solar system, and he opened his textbook with an interest that had been missing for a long time.

He barely noticed as Pidge threw herself onto the stool beside him, dropping her laptop onto the desk with a sigh, but he did notice the loud yawn from Hunk that turned into a long-suffered groan of frustration. The larger man dropped down on his other side, so that both friends acted as living bookends, and he tried to avoid the look that Hunk sent his way, hidden slightly by a raised eyebrow and pursed lips. Lance shrugged and asked:

“What’s wrong with being his friend?”

“Nothing,” said Hunk. “Like, nothing is wrong with being his friend.”

Lance pouted, as Hunk began to organise his possessions. The notepad and textbook were perfectly positioned, so that nothing seemed wrong or out of place, but he caught the high-pitched tone to the voice and subtle shaking of the head. Lance gave a hiss of breath. He watched as Hunk took a few notes from the designated chapter, while he listened to the way Pidge clicked and clacked at the keys, but no one wanted to finish the thought. Lance threw back his head and moaned, before he slumped forward with arms folded across his chest.

“Okay, so what’s the problem?” Lance asked.

“Well, I can think of one problem,” muttered Pidge. “You spent our spring vacation with a teacher. People talk. If word gets around, everyone is going to ask just why you’re spending spa weekends with Coran and getting pretty good grades in class. I can’t blame them. You weren’t exactly the best student in class, but this year you’re doing pretty well.”

“Yeah, Pidge has a point, man.” Hunk scratched at his neck. “I mean you _did_ massively turn around this year, and now you’re having spa breaks with Coran? It’s kind of suspicious. Like, I know you’re _not_ sleeping with him, as he’s way not your type, but still –”

“Look,” muttered Lance, “we weren’t on a weekend away _together_. We just happened to be in the same hotel at the same time, that’s all! My grades went up this year because I had to work twice as hard to keep up with you guys. You came back _heroes_ ; even Keith was allowed back in the Garrison, all because you saved the _universe_ , so – yeah – forgive me if I hit the books after that. I earned my grades the old-fashioned way, thank you.”

“Yeah, and look what happened to Keith,” whispered Pidge.

Lance winced. He looked over Pidge’s shoulder; the younger woman had pulled up a social media site, which lay side-by-side with the Garrison homepage, and he saw a photograph of Keith and Shiro beside one another, with Keith’s sleeve dropped down to reveal a slither of a shoulder. He spotted another photograph of a movie-night, which Hunk forced him to attend as an ‘honorary Paladin’, where the two men were once again inseparable.

He was tempted to ask to see more, but heard a loud cough. Coran entered from the front of the classroom dressed in usual Altean attire, with a smile that made the lines at his eyes deepen, and Lance – with a blush – sat upright and folded his hands in front of him. There was an eye-roll from Pidge, followed by another sigh from Hunk, but their obvious displeasure was cut short by Coran announcing classes were cancelled for the day, something to do with an administrative error. The class grumbled, as they headed back out.

Lance kept his eyes upon Coran.

He didn’t move, even as Hunk and Pidge packed up their stuff. The class was already piling in the aisles, trying to fight to get to the main doors first, while Coran hummed contently and sat himself before his desk. Lance half-smiled and shook his head. He noticed the large piles of paperwork, as well as dozens of unopened letters, and he swore the computer monitor on the desk also showed an obscene amount of unread emails that needed a response.

“Dude, remember Keith,” warned Hunk in a whisper.

Lance groaned and rolled his eyes, as he stood and snatched at his folders. He rammed them into his bag, before he stood threw his backpack over his shoulder, and – as the three students soon became the only students – he looked down to Coran and caught the older man’s eye. Lance looked quickly away; he leaned forward, body now bent in two, and waved a hand in the air with a melodramatic gesture. Hunk said nothing, even as Pidge came to stand by his side and looked to Lance with a frown. Lance couldn’t help but hiss:

“Yeah, well, he shouldn’t have slept with Shiro.”

“They’re a cute couple, though,” chirped Hunk. “Shay and I double-date.”

“True, plus they really were a good team,” added Pidge. “I guess it’s not done any harm in the long-run, either. I hear Shiro’s working with Allura in a nursery somewhere, while Keith’s running his own mechanic business out in the desert. They’re doing alright.”

“Yeah, but – you know – Keith _loved_ it at the Garrison. He didn’t cope well the first time around when he got kicked out, but I guess he’s got Shiro around this time to help him deal, plus – well – Shiro’s all he ever wanted anyway, right? I guess if you’re going to throw away your education, it’s not all that bad if you’re doing it for love. Maybe? I guess?”

“Will you two stop this?” Lance asked. “I’m not in love with Coran.”

“Good, because he’d lose his job,” replied Pidge. “It’s pretty lonely being an Altean; I mean I almost lost it when I lost my family, but to lose my entire people would have sent me over the edge. We’re all that Coran has left in the world. Allura’s coping okay, but she’s got Coran to lean on . . . who’s Coran got, you know? He has to be strong for everyone.”

Lance slumped his shoulders and looked downward. He kicked at the floor with a sigh, while he thought about the heavy pressure that must have weighed Coran down, and he avoided eye contact with his two friends in that brief moment. Lance raised his hands to grasp at the strap of his bag; his skin felt soft to the touch, which brought a smile to his face, and he made a mental note to thank Coran for the moisturiser recommendation. He soon blanched at the thought, before he shook his head and blinked rapidly away the following emotions.

“He’s not my type anyway,” Lance muttered.

The room felt cold, despite the spring weather. He shuffled from foot to foot, while Pidge yawned and stretched, and – as Hunk led the way toward the left aisle – Lance cast surreptitious glances to Coran. Lance noticed for the first time the framed photographs on the desk, as well as the slight pained expression any time Coran looked to them, and he even noticed the way Coran would always look sadly at diagrams of certain parts of the universe. There was so much depth and loss. Pidge interrupted his thoughts with a sincere question:

“He’s not your type?”

“No way,” said Lance. “I like a lady with a lot of curves! I guess one with a sense of humour, too, and one who’s way smart, but not too arrogant with it, unlike _Keith_. It’d be nice if they were loyal, too, as well as someone who knows what it means to be responsible, _but_ also knows when to have a good time. Ah, a cheeky grin, too, and hidden depths, and –”

“You’re pretty much describing Coran.”

“Yeah, except for the breasts,” added Hunk. “Although, with Altean shape-shifting -?”

“ _Anyway_ , I guess guys aren’t too bad,” admitted Lance. “I just never had much chance to really try dating any guys, because – well – I always worried about standing out more than I already do, but it’s a moot point anyway . . . he’s out of my league for sure.”

Pidge quickly hushed him and stood upon his foot. The kick packed a lot of punch for someone so small in stature, and Lance gasped out in pain and hopped for a few seconds, as he reached down to apply pressure to what was surely a growing bruise. He was about to curse her strength when he saw something from the corner of his eye: Coran. The older man stood with a hand upon his hip and a smile upon his lips, as he looked to them.

They stood in silence for a long few seconds, as Lance blushed and struggled to find words, and – finally confronted with what he was beginning to see as his crush – he opened and closed his mouth in rapid succession in a desperate need to find something to say and finding nothing was said. Pidge nudged him in his side; Lance squeaked out a ‘hello’, as Coran chuckled in response and raised a curled finger to his mouth to hide his laughter, and Hunk – with some clear frustration – heaved out a sigh. Coran asked in a chipper voice:

“Ah, am I interrupting something?”

Lance looked between Hunk and Pidge. He could see in their eyes how strange they thought his reaction, especially when – with women – he’d never lost his nerve and knew well how to flirt, but somehow Coran brought out a deeper insecurity within him. Sure, he could argue and bicker with Coran, just as they could easily share deeper conversations, but something about him just made him feel weak and protected all at once. Lance swallowed hard.

“Nah,” said Hunk. “We’re all good.”

“We were just leaving, actually,” added Pidge. “Hunk has a date with Shay, plus I have a family meal that I promised to attend, and – well – might as well make the most of it seeing as classes are cancelled. We’ll catch you later, Lance? Just think about what we said? About Keith? I can’t tell you what to do, but just – you know – be prepared.”

“Yeah, I think he already knows,” muttered Hunk. “Catch you around?”

“Tomorrow?” Pidge asked. “Same time, same place?”

Lance sagged his shoulders. He looked to Coran and saw the puzzlement in the older man’s expression, as he twiddled his moustache and looked between the three of them, and Lance blushed to realise that he found it attractive. Coran had the body of a man that was only _just_ out of his prime, so that he still bore the shape of his muscles and the toned physique of one that still worked out, and he was extremely masculine to the last detail. It brought a blush to his cheeks, before he shook his head and muttered:

“Yeah, see you guys then.”

The two of them headed out with surreptitious glances over their shoulders, until they were outside and closed the classroom doors behind them. The bang of the shut doors echoed about the room; it signalled peace and quiet at last, enabling Lance to throw back his head and give a long exhale of relief, and – as he looked to Coran with a smile – he relished in the moment of privacy between them. Lately, they filled their time with study sessions in the observatory or cleaning up after class or eating together in the cafeteria. It was nice.

Coran bounced upon his feet, before he headed down the aisle. He waved a hand for Lance to follow; Lance walked close behind, where he caught a scent of Altean cologne, and – as he breathed deep – he gave an absent smile. There was a photograph of Allura as a child upon the desk, just by the side of Coran’s computer. Lance blushed to remember his crush on Allura when they first met, as well as her following rejection, and he quickly looked away.

“Well, that was rather odd of the others,” said Coran.

“Ah, yeah, sorry about them.”

“Hunk’s a nice fellow and a good chap.” Coran smiled to himself. “Still, I can’t help but wonder whether they were avoiding me. I appreciate you staying behind after class, as I could do with some help marking these first year essays! I may have gotten a _smidge_ behind with my work and I could always do with your company.”

“Sure, I guess I can help out.” Lance took a seat next to Coran at the desk, as some papers were slid across the table to him. “Er, while I’m here, can I talk to you about something? It’s just about what Hunk and Pidge said, so I thought maybe . . . while we’re alone . . .”

“You can talk to me about anything, lad. You know that.”

“Okay, well, it’s about us being friends.”

There was a sudden silence. Coran’s hand froze midair over one of the essays; a drop of ink fell from his cartridge pen onto the desk beside the paper, while his gloved hand gripped a little tighter upon the metal, and he hissed through flared nostrils. Lance watched those cheeks pale, while those violet eyes became half-lidded, and those lips shook with an unstable smile. It was strange to watch Coran visibly holding back such emotion, especially when Lance only ever saw him act this way around Allura. He looked conflicted.

“I see,” whispered Coran. “I’m a bit too old to spend time with, eh?”

“What? No. No!” Lance flushed red. “It’s not that!”

“I remember when I was your age,” said Coran in a wistful voice. “I used to spend so much time with my grandfather, but – ah – I may have gone through a bit of a phase . . . nothing mattered, everyone hated me, and I hated everyone else . . . I must say that I sometimes forget how lonely it is being a teenager. It’s not something I’d ever care to repeat.”

“Yeah, it’s actually pretty rough. That’s why I _really_ like hanging out with you, Coran, because you – well – totally get me. I mean I know that Hunk and stuff gets me, too, but it’s not the same. You have all this advice and wisdom and I like that. Honest.”

“Well, experience is a harsh mistress.” Coran scratched at his moustache. “I loved my grandfather dearly, but – during that same phase – I told him that he was too ‘uncool’ for me to ‘hang’ with, and – well – he passed away not long after. My last words to him were that he wasn’t good enough to spend time with. I’ve always regretted that. I’ve always promised myself to be absolutely honest since, as well as to always mind others’ feelings.”

There was a small smile on those lips. Lance looked to the photographs on the desk; one featured a man that was unmistakably related to Coran in some way, with the picture stained by light and faded with time, and the deeply insecure part of Lance wondered whether it was that fear of hurting another that motivated Coran to stay with him. There was little noise from outside the classroom, no sounds of bustling students or teachers rushing to their next class, and Lance worried the sound of his swallowing echoed about the room. Lance asked:

“Are you hanging out with me because you don’t want to hurt me?”

Coran visibly flinched. The pen in his hand dropped onto the table, as he turned around in his chair to face Lance, and – as he gently took a hold of Lance’s hands – Lance looked up at him with a sad smile and blinked away the hint of an unshed tear. He enjoyed the way that gloved thumbs traced patterns on the soft skin, enough that he smiled and locked eyes with Coran, and the seconds of intimacy seemed to drift into minutes, until Coran finally spoke.

“Actually, I rather like spending time with you.”

“Cool, because I like spending time with you, too,” admitted Lance with a blush. “That’s why I wanted to talk to you, because Hunk and Pidge are . . . worried. They think it’s going to lead to something, or that people will think we’re just like Shiro and Keith, and I keep _telling_ them that’s stupid, because you’re way out of my league and -! Are – Are you _laughing_?”

Lance pouted, as Coran burst into laughter. The lines about his eyes crinkled deep, while the parting of his lips exposed his eyeteeth, and those cheeks flushed a dark red with sheer emotion. Coran squeezed at his hands, forcing them into place. Lance saw the way that Coran licked at his lips, as his laughter died into a quiet chuckle, and he quirked an eyebrow in response as his new friend winked at him and shrugged his shoulders.

“Well,” said Coran. “I personally thought _you_ were out of _my_ league.”

“No way! You’re lying,” accused Lance.

“Not at all, I can assure you!” Coran smiled. The papers were now forgotten. “You’re a very attractive fellow, my boy. I’ve admired your spunk since we first met; you weren’t afraid to argue with me, just like you’re not afraid to stand up for what you believe in, and I’ve never seen anyone yell at Shiro before, not like you! You’re highly intelligent, plus an excellent sharpshooter, and you understand my pain and loneliness in turn. I like you.”

“B-But I’m nowhere near as good as the others! Like, Allura and Shiro are totally hot, and Keith was this prodigy, and Pidge and Hunk have individual talents with computers and cooking, and I’m just this – this – this outsider . . . you’re so awesome, though!”

“Well, I wouldn’t say I was ‘awesome’, but I am pretty great!” Coran winked and Lance smiled in response, as Coran said in a chipper voice: “I am a little relieved to know I’m not _totally_ out of your league, but I think your friends are right about us being alone together. If there’s any chance of us developing feelings, it could be a dangerous thing for us.”

“You mean my getting expelled and your getting fired?”

“That would be the gist of it, yes.”

Lance pulled his hands away, only to run them through his hair. He gnawed at his lip, while Coran glanced him over with a softened expression and a half-smile, and – as Lance glanced around the empty classroom – he searched his mind for a solution. There was a buzz from the phone in his backpack, which vibrated close to his foot, and he thought to his friends’ warnings and also to the happiness he always saw on Shiro’s face whenever Keith was around. It was easy to envy their happiness, but easier to see why it was worth the risk.

“I graduate in a few months,” muttered Lance.

“I suppose we can always try dating then, most definitely.”

“W-What about now?” Lance asked.

Coran stood to his feet. He fussed around with the papers upon the desk, even going so far as to take those from Lance and return them to the pile, and Lance pouted at Coran’s distracted and divided attention. Lance licked at his lips and stood in turn, as he adjusted his uniform. He swung his bag over his shoulder and waved his free hand in the air, desperate to get the older man’s attention, and soon Coran pressed his fingertips to the pile of papers and placed his other hand upon his hip. He looked to Lance with a stern gaze.

“Lance, that’s awfully risky,” said Coran.

“No one has to know.” Lance blushed and shrugged. “We can keep it mostly platonic, so no one can accuse us of being inappropriate. If we only hang out in groups, it’ll be impossible to prove it’s anything more than friendship, and it’s not like we’d be doing anything wrong by being friends, right? I don’t know about you, but I’d like to see where this goes.”

“It would be nice to have a partner . . . not to have to go to bed alone, not to have to eat alone, to be able to share our lives with another . . . still, there’s no guarantees this will work. Friendship is a solid foundation, but there’s so much more a relationship needs.”

“We’re just dating, right? I like you and you like me, that’s all.”

“And that’d be great any other time. I’d take you for a pint or two, maybe we’d go for a meal another night, and we’d get to know each other . . . maybe share a kiss or two, eventually share in something more, and see if we were compatible. I’m your _teacher_ though, Lance, we’re already pushing boundaries as things stand. It’s a wee bit wrong.”

There was a loud noise from outside the classroom. Lance caught a curse, followed by the sound of something breaking like glass, and he recognised the voice of one of his classmates yelling in response. It was a reminder of how easy it would be to get caught, as anyone could enter at any time or overhear their discussions at any moment. They were currently breaking no laws or rules, but it would only be time when ‘casual dating’ turned into ‘monogamous relationship’. Lance stepped closer to Coran and chanced a question.

“Isn’t anything worth having also worth the risk?”

Coran bit at his lip; he reached up to scratch at his nose, before he folded his arms across his chest and muttered out a harsh ‘quiznak’, and a blush came across his cheeks. Lance smiled in victory and – with a newfound confidence – made a mental note to do some _serious_ flirting at future dates, especially if it would bring about such adorable and attractive reactions from his possible boyfriend. Coran sighed and shrugged his shoulders, as he muttered:

“One date? Just to see where it goes.”

Lance beamed a bright smile. He fisted his hands against his chest and jumped upon the heels of his feet, before he gave a v-sign for ‘victory’ and placed both hands on his hips. The reaction from Coran made him blush; the older man looked to him with such affection that it was hard to feel anything but vulnerable, and yet he felt safe under the gaze of the other. He drew in a deep breath until his chest heaved out and practically shouted:

“Agreed!”

 


	3. Chapter 3

There was laughter.

It sounded about the lounge of the castle, so that the whole space was filled with jovial sounds and playful banter, and it echoed about until all Lance could hear was the incessant chatter of his friends. He pouted from beside Pidge. There was usually nothing better than to spend time with his friends, but he could barely take his eyes away from Coran. The older man laughed the hardest and gesticulated the wildest, as he spoke with Shiro.

He looked so handsome in his Altean attire. Lance watched the way he moved, each time the tight clothing would accentuate the lines of his body and the firmness to his muscles, and those violet eyes would sparkle with life. Every so often, Coran would take a bite from the buffet and he would smile at the taste of the Altean food. It was clear that the human cuisine was made by Hunk, but the extreme professionalism of the food only made it clearer that Coran made the Altean side, especially as some of it still seemed to move.

Lance saw as Allura danced around with a Galra whose name he forgot, and saw as Shay picked lazily at items from the buffet, as Hunk watched her with a soft gaze and gentle smile, and soon he realised how much like a family the small group had become. There was strange music playing from afar, which would cause Coran to dance to its beat on every other line, and – as Lance smiled absently – he almost missed as Hunk chirped:

“Looking a bit distracted there, pal.”

The party picked up speed, as people moved to and fro in various combinations. It felt good to have Hunk and Pidge by his side, as they lingered by the sofas and few trays of finger-foods on a nearby table, and yet he couldn’t keep his eyes from Coran. Lance ran a hand over the back of his neck, as he looked between his two friends. Pidge wore a somewhat fashionable dress over practical leggings, which struck him as odd when he could never recall her in feminine clothes before, and it only drilled in the distance between them.

“Er, yeah,” said Lance. “I guess I’m just not feeling it today.”

“Jealous your _boyfriend_ is spending so much time with Shiro?” Pidge teased.

“No, I’m just annoyed I can’t hear anyone talk over the sound of the eighties asking for their glasses back.” Lance folded his arms with a pout. “Okay, _fine_ , maybe I’m a little jealous, but it’s just that you guys have all this history together, you know? Like, what do I have to offer in comparison to time spend on alien planets and defeating an empire?”

“Are you kidding?” Hunk asked. “You’re all that Coran talks about. He’s totally bragging that – if you’d come with us that day – you’d have been the Blue Paladin instead of it ending up being given to him, and he’s really into that because it’s like a bond or something.”

“I know, but he’s this great guy and a hero and I’m just –”

“Totally meant for him, trust me.”

Hunk slapped a hand upon Lance’s shoulder. It brought a smile to his lips, as he tried to stay strong and fight back his insecurities, but – whenever he looked to Hunk – he just saw a man that fought against Zarkon and brought peace to the universe. Lance looked over to Coran and saw the older man look back; there was a strange smile on the older man’s face, as his eyes half-closed with concern and his hands fell limply to his sides, and Lance looked quickly away in fear he’d worried his boyfriend. He swallowed hard and shrugged.

“You’re just being nice,” mumbled Lance.

“No, Hunk has a point,” chirped Pidge. “You really like Coran, right? He’s telling us that you guys plan on going public once you graduate, so there’s always that going for you. If you think he’s such a great guy and really nice and really honest, doesn’t it strike you as super odd that he’d want to date someone so – what you term – unworthy?”

“Yeah, that’s right!” Hunk smiled and nudged Lance with his elbow. “If you think Coran would have such bad taste to date a bad dude, you obviously don’t know Coran! You have just as much right to be here as anyone else, man. We want you here.”

“I think I’m just going to sit this one out,” muttered Lance. He cracked his back and rolled his shoulders. “Coran deserves to have fun, especially when he works so hard and has to be strong for everyone, and I don’t know guys . . . I’m really not feeling it today. If he asks where I am, just tell him that I’ve gone to crash in his room? I just need like an hour to recharge and get my head together. See you guys in a while?”

“You sure? Like, we can always go someplace else.”

“It’s cool. I’ll be back in a while.”

Lance waved a hand and made his way through the crowd. He hated the jostle of shoulders bumping into him, as well as the constant laughter that only made him feel more alone, and the room was stiflingly hot with the hustle-and-bustle. No one noticed as he made his way to the main doors, even as he slumped his shoulders and breathed a sigh of relief. The doors closed behind him. The sudden quiet provided a vast relief.

He looked around the hallway; the coolness of the air was good upon his skin, while the sudden quiet was almost jarring from the noise within, and it was strangely claustrophobic to be surrounded by so much space. Lance cracked his neck, before he walked down the hallway with hands shoved into his pockets. He barely noticed as the doors opened once more behind him, or as quick footsteps made their way in his direction, and it was only when a hand clamped upon his shoulder that he turned around and saw he was no longer alone.

Lance turned to face Coran.

The older man dropped his hand by his side, as he smiled down upon Lance. There was a mild flush to his cheeks, likely from the alcohol spread liberally about the party, and he soon rested one hand upon his hip and tilted his head with a casual gesture. It was clear that he was enjoying the party, especially from the smile that made its way to his eyes, and Lance looked down at the floor unable to meet his eye, while he kicked at the tiles.

“I saw you sneaking out, lad,” chirped Coran.

“How?” Lance mumbled: “You were all the way across the room,”

Coran smiled, as he reached out for Lance’s hand. The smooth material of the glove provided a small comfort, warming his skin and feeling soft to the touch, and he soon lifted Lance’s hand to his lips and placed a chaste kiss to his knuckles. There were a few tears at the corners of his eyes, as he pulled Lance a step closer and lowered his head to look down into those blue eyes with sheer affection. Lance blushed and looked away. He scratched nervously at the back of his neck, as Coran let go of his hand with a soft chuckle.

“Even in a room filled with people,” said Coran, “you’re the only one I see.”

“Y-You’re – You’re just trying to –”

“You’re blushing, love.” Coran winked and leaned closer. “Ah, see, the shoe’s on the other foot now, eh? You don’t know what torture it is to have a dashing young lad constantly flirting with you, so it’s only fair that you know what it’s like to be on the receiving end. Still, do you know what’s worse than having such a temptation about? It’s seeing the man you love doubt himself when there’s nothing to doubt.” Coran smiled. “You’re perfect.”

“I don’t feel perfect,” said Lance. “Now I’ve ruined your party, too. I just don’t know what’s wrong with me; I’m usually so great when it comes to flirting with girls, but whenever I see you I just end up all tongue-tied, like it’s my first time even meeting a real person! I just want to be able to tell you how much I appreciate you and like you and love you and –”

“I sometimes wish the others could see this side of you, but then I feel a _tad_ jealous. I’m grateful that I’m the only one to see this, because it means it’s something just for _us_ and no one else. You never need to feel ashamed around me, because – like I say – you’re –”

“Perfect?”

Coran chuckled. The sound sent shivers through Lance’s spine, as he licked at his lips and moved from foot to foot, and he noticed that they’d stepped ever closer, with Coran’s hand now playing with a lock of hair just above his ear. It was a reassuring gesture, which felt good and even brought with it a small spark of arousal, and Lance blushed to realise that they had never gone further than small pecks and handholding in private moments. Coran rubbed his lips together, while his eyes locked with Lance’s in keen interest.

“Absolutely perfect,” swore Coran.

They stood in quiet together, as Lance looked into those eyes and felt a flutter within his chest, and – as Coran continued to play with his hair – he realised that this was where he was meant to be and everything that he wanted. Lance reached up to place his hands upon his boyfriend’s shoulders; they were firm to the touch, enough to provide some a solid foundation and a sense of stability, and Lance craned his head upward.

“Would it be okay if I . . . er . . .?”

“Kissed me?” Coran asked.

“Well, we can start off with a kiss, sure.”

Coran laughed long and loud. It warmed Lance and provided some relief, as he relaxed his body and gripped tighter upon the body of his boyfriend, and – as he smiled up at Coran with a confident grin – he realised that Coran was now close enough to touch. He could practically feel that warm breath upon his lips; Lance looked Coran up and down, as he licked at his lips and arched his back to lean closer into his boyfriend’s space, and he couldn’t help but smirk when a gloved hand pulled at the lapel of his jacket and Coran nodded down the hallway.

“Follow me,” whispered Coran.

They moved quickly down the hallway. Coran tugged him by his lapel the entire way; Lance struggled to keep up, as he reached out and touched Coran whenever possible, and the two of them would often stop just to share eye contact and smiles. There was laughter, but this time it spilled from Lance’s lips as his heart raced. Coran soon found the door for which he searched. They tumbled inside a small utility closet, with the door closed behind them.

It was a tight squeeze; Lance leaned back against a row of shelves, with two hands gripping the one on level with his hips, and looked up to see Coran bracing himself with his hands on either side of his head, as they gripped upon the shelves in turn. They shared a long look, neither one willing to break the strange spell between them. The darkness inside the closet was only broken by a stream of light from the edges of the door, but it gave the effect of casting a light glow about the face of the older man. He looked beautiful.

Lance found courage. He leaned forward to press his lips against Coran’s, so that they barely touched and yet shared in warm breath, and – as they panted in a nervous unison – Lance slowly moved his lips in search of something more. It was a gentle and slow kiss, one borne from love and nothing further, and Lance didn’t even consider deepening the kiss, as it was simply so perfect just to find such small intimacy with his beloved.

“Wow, you guys suck at hiding,” said Keith.

Lance jumped at the sudden intrusion.

He yanked away, where he banged his head upon the shelf. Lance muttered a curse and turned to see Keith standing in the doorway with arms folded, and gently pushed Coran back a few steps to give himself some room. Coran cleared his throat; Lance ignored the sound to face Keith and lean into his space with clenched fists held high, and he felt his cheeks flush red in livid rage, as he stormed toward Keith with wild gestures.

“What the hell are you doing here?”

“I promised Shiro I’d come check on you,” said Keith. “Look, if you guys are going to fool around, I’d recommend the pantry off the kitchen. It sounds counter-productive, but Hunk only ever cooks with fresh ingredients. No one will look in there.”

“Uh-Huh, and how’d _you_ know about that?”

“Do you even have to ask?”

Keith rolled his eyes and walked away. Lance leaned out of the door to make sure he was gone, with eyes half-closed into a dangerous glare, and then turned back to see Coran with flushed face and slightly turned away. He looked to be trying to hide himself from Lance’s gaze, which was odd until Lance looked over Coran and noticed his rather prominent interest in their earlier kiss. He blushed in turn, before he scratched at the back of his neck.

There was a throat-clearing cough from Coran, who turned – once some self-control was regained – and came towards Lance with a bright smile. He placed a chaste kiss to his forehead, before he winked and gestured with his thumb in the direction of the kitchen, as if he seriously considered Keith’s suggestion. Lance chanced a glance down the hall. There was no one in sight, and the idea of their first kiss not leading into a second felt almost blasphemous, and it was true no one would find them in the pantry.

“Well, worth a shot,” teased Coran. “The pantry then?”

Lance smiled and led the way.

 

 

 


	4. Chapter 4

Lance looked to his boyfriend.

Coran stood upon the porch with a frown; the tips of his red moustache were down-turned, while his lips were pursed and chapped, and his eyes – still so beautiful and vibrant – were cast down to observe the cracks upon the tiles. He was dressed in formal Altean attire, although the fabric still clung to his body in such a way that it accentuated his muscles. The light breeze blew across the lawn and rustled at his thick locks of hair.

It brought a smile to Lance’s face. He turned to Coran and touched upon his hips, before he let his fingers spread and hands trail up his chest to his shoulders, and – as he squeezed in reassurance – he stepped closer so that they were chest-to-chest. Those lips in front of him were dry and cut in places from where they were nervously bitten, and Lance took pity upon his partner and kissed him softly until what was a chaste kiss risked becoming something deeper, at which point he pulled away with a blush. Coran smiled.

“Relax, you’ll do fine,” chirped Lance.

Coran embraced Lance. Lance found his arms trapped between them, although it enabled him to play with the blue fabric with a smile, and – as one hand rested upon the small of his back – a gloved hand came to rest upon the back of his neck. He felt Coran bury his head into his hair, where he heard a deep inhale of breath, and it took all his self-control not to lead his boyfriend away into the old tree-house for cuddles and small-talk, especially when a jealous part of him regretted having to share him with the rest of his family. Coran whispered:

“It’s been a while since I met the parents.”

“They think we’re just friends,” reassured Lance. “I graduated last week, anyway, so it’s not as though they can get you fired if they find out and don’t like it. As far as everyone else is concerned, we only started dating _after_ I graduated, right? It’ll be fine! Plus, you’re a _hero_. I would gladly give my life for you any day, because – well – you’re _my_ hero.”

“Aye, lad, just as you’re my hero.” Coran pressed a soft kiss to his head. “Still, I’m a little worried that we may let something slip. I was hoping for a little while longer just us, before we start bringing other people into this . . . what if they don’t like me?”

“Coran, I’d happily give up the world for you. You know that.”

“Just as you should know I would never ask that of you.”

Coran pulled apart just enough to cup Lance’s cheeks. He rubbed light circles along his jaw, while thumbs loosely pried apart his lips, and – just as Lance was tempted to devour one in a sensuous display and need for further flirtation – Coran leaned down for a kiss. It stole Lance’s breath, just enough that he opened his mouth and felt Coran deepen the kiss, and soon he found his hands moving of their own accord down Coran’s back, until they reached a still somewhat firm pair of buttocks and squeezed. Coran gasped in surprise.

“Ew,” came a voice. “You’re gross.”

Lance cried out in shock.

He let go of Coran and jumped back, while Coran blushed a dark red. The older man spluttered and gasped and stuttered to struggle out a few words, while – as Lance looked down – he saw his baby cousin with arms folded and a dark pout across his feature. It filled him with a mixture of mortifying humiliation and a sense of burning rage. Tyler didn’t look guilty in the least, but instead just stared Lance down with a dark glare.

It was cold outside the family home. Lance pulled his jacket about his body, while he looked down to wonder who’d dressed his cousin in just a t-shirt and pair of shorts, but – before he could argue with the kid – Coran knelt down on the back of his heels. He reached out to ruffle Tyler’s hair, but apparently ‘stranger danger’ had been drilled pretty well into his head. Two small pair of arms wrapped tightly around Lance’s legs, while the whole weight of the small child leaned against him, and only Coran’s quick thinking stopped him from falling over.

Lance flailed his arms about until Coran caught his wrists; he stood upright, with a few gasped breaths, and looked into the open front door of the house. The rest of the family were nowhere to be seen, although he heard soft music and laughter from out back, and he blushed to realise they’d like organised a family barbeque to celebrate his graduation. He heard his grandmother’s voice, so they had likely flown family out from Cuba.

“I – I thought this was just a small get-together,” muttered Lance.

“It is,” replied Tyler. “It’s all of your momma’s family and all of your papa’s family, and only the neighbours and your friends and some of the teachers. My momma said it’s small, because everyone is coming at start – stat – _staggered_ times.”

“Aw, come on! This isn’t fair. I _hate_ their idea of ‘small’!”

“Momma says not to say ‘hate’.”

Lance rolled his eyes, as he gently let go of Coran. He reached down to pick his cousin up into his arms, where he dropped him onto his hip and held him with one hand, and – as his cousin poked him over and over, saying his name in a repetitive manner – he ran his free hand down his face and fought back a groan. Coran chuckled and reached out to nudge Tyler’s chin with his fist, before he cracked his back and placed a kiss to Lance’s cheek. It brought a smile to Lance’s face, even as Coran chirped back:

“Aw, you’re an adorable tyke!”

“I’m five,” squeaked Tyler. “You look old.”

“Hey, that’s not nice, Ty,” chastised Lance. “Look, this is Mister Smythe. He works at the Garrison. You remember me telling you about the Garrison, right? So you need to be _super_ quiet about what you just saw. It’s going to be our little secret, so why don’t we do a pinkie-swear and promise not to tell anyone about that kiss, right? It’ll be totally –”

“Lance, you can’t teach him to keep secrets!” Coran waved his hands wildly before him with a pale face, before he knelt down to Tyler’s level and said firmly: “Lance is a bit of a silly-billy, kiddo. You make sure you _never_ keep secrets ever, okay? No secrets!”

“But you two just kissed and isn’t that bad?” Tyler asked.

“Not when you’re dating, which we are.”

Tyler looked between Lance and Coran with a raised eyebrow. It was an expression that reminded Lance to much of himself, especially when he pursed his lips and glared at Coran much in the way that Lance would glare at Keith, and then – with a muttered grunt – Tyler climbed down and stood with hands on his hips. He pointed his chin high in the air, as he face Coran head on, and it was clear he was not intimidated by the adult’s size. Tyler stabbed a thumb at his chest and stood with legs apart, as he asked in a loud voice:

“So I can go tell everyone?”

“You sure can,” said Coran. “Go nuts, sweetie!”

There was a brief silence, until Tyler broke out into a large grin. The young boy looked from one to the other, before he ran with socked feet through the house and out into the garden, and Lance looked to his boyfriend with folded arms and a raised eyebrow. It would only be a matter of seconds before the whole family knew the truth, which meant that they didn’t have long to get their story straight. Coran looked away with a too innocent grin.

“Why’d you tell him that?”

“I think it’s time we came out of the relationship closet,” admitted Coran. “I love you, Lance, and I don’t care if the whole universe knows it. I’ll even get a job elsewhere if push comes to shove, but just so long as I get to be by your side in life. I adore you, my beloved.”

“Yeah, but what if they react badly? Everyone’s here. Everyone!”

“Oh, I’m sure they’ll be okay with things!”

Tyler ran back through the hall. He slipped a few times, before he picked himself back up and ran over to them, and – as he made his way – Coran took Lance’s hand and clasped it between them, while Lance leaned against him and rested his head upon his lover’s shoulder. The two of them watched Tyler until he stopped between them; the little boy panted for breath and rested his hands upon his knees, until he jumped up and said cheerfully:

“Momma says to ask if you’re getting married.”

Coran burst out into laughter and said:

“One day soon, I promise.”

 


End file.
